012~ HAS CHOOSEN
1399 Words
Lucas
The bar's ambience pulsed with the rhythm of laughter and clinking glasses as the night unfolded. Aria, despite her reluctance toward the bitter taste of alcohol, continued to navigate the unfamiliar territory of her cocktail. Each sip was a symphony of expressions, a delightful dance of grimaces that mirrored my own amusement.
As the dim lights painted the scene, I couldn't help but find her struggle endearing. She was caught between the desire for a good time and the distaste for the drink, and I found it really cute.
Her flushed cheeks betrayed the effects of the alcohol, and I could tell she was already a bit tipsy – only her second glass in.
"No more alcohol for you, Aria. You're already drunk," I declared, playfully snatching the new glass she had ordered.
Aria's response was a charming pout and a vehement denial of her inebriation. "That's what a drunk lady would say," I teased, the corners of my lips curving into a playful smile as I finished my own drink in one gulp.
Aria's distressed plea for her confiscated glass echoed in the air, but I shook my head, downing the remnants of her drink. The evening was alive with the symphony of laughter and the distant melodies from a live band.
I excused myself, trusting Owen to keep an eye on her, as I navigated through the animated crowd towards the restroom.
Upon my return, the scene that unfolded exceeded my wildest expectations. Aria, fueled by the liberating effects of alcohol, had ascended the bar table, transforming it into an impromptu stage. The customers became an impromptu audience, clapping and cheering as she embraced the music, dancing with a carefree abandon that swept through the room.
As her silhouette moved gracefully against the backdrop of dim lights, a mixture of embarrassment and concern played across my face. I couldn't deny the charm of her uninhibited dance, but the situation called for intervention.
With determined steps, I approached the table. Ignoring the cheers and laughter around us, I reached out, gently grabbing Aria's hand, and with a reassuring smile, I guided her down from the tabletop. The onlookers, momentarily diverted, resumed their conversations as I ushered Aria back to a more grounded reality.
"The hell, Owen?" I shot an irritated glare at Owen, who sheepishly claimed he couldn't stop Aria's spontaneous dance.
"I wanna dance! I wanna dance!" Aria's words rang out, a whimsical protest that turned her whine into a melodious demand.
Frustration bubbled within me as I surveyed the onlookers, their murmurs creating a disapproving backdrop to the scene. With a determined scowl, I directed an angry gaze at those who dared to judge. The murmurs subsided, silenced by my intense glare.
In the midst of the brewing frustration, Aria's gaze unexpectedly met mine. She blinked, giving me her best rendition of puppy dog eyes. As much as it melted my heart, I couldn't let her continue with her tabletop dance for strangers.
As she stood beside me, the question lingered in my mind – had she always danced this way when she went out drinking with other guys?
The thought injected a tinge of jealousy into my emotions, an unexpected pang of possessiveness that I hadn't anticipated.
She wrapped her arms around me in a tipsy embrace, her laughter dancing in the air like a melody. As I held her close, her body pressed against mine, creating an unexpected intimacy.
The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, mixing with the warmth of her presence, sending waves of desire coursing through my veins.
In that fleeting moment, her uninhibited laughter and the closeness we shared blurred the lines between former friends and something more.
My mind raced with conflicting emotions. The desire to lean into the moment and savour the closeness fought against the rational voice, reminding me she was drunk.
No! This wasn't the time to let my mind wander into unholy places.
"Lucas! I missed you," she declared suddenly, her voice filled with genuine excitement.
Her words sparked an unfamiliar warmth within me. I couldn't help but smile, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. In that moment, her green eyes held a vulnerability that resonated with something deep within me.
A subtle shift occurred as her gaze moved from my eyes to my lips. With unexpected boldness, she stood on her toes, bringing her face dangerously close, and the promise of a kiss hung in the air.
The subtle scent of her perfume and the warmth radiating from her made the moment feel suspended in time. Anticipation hung heavy between us, only to be replaced by a playful twist as she smacked my lips with her finger.
"We're dating, silly! No cheating allowed," she giggled, a charming frown forming on her face. The juxtaposition of her playful actions and the warmth in her eyes created a moment that danced on the edge of something more profound.
With a mix of confusion and a strange ache in my chest, I placed my hand gently on her neck, and we stood there, forehead to forehead, caught in the whirlwind of emotions. The noise from the bar, the clinking glasses, and distant laughter seemed to fade into the background.
"Should we break up with our partners?" I asked, my voice carrying a sincerity that surprised even me.
She paused, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Are you really willing to break up with Ruby?" she questioned, a hint of scepticism in her gaze.
My nod was earnest. While I wasn't actually in a relationship with Ruby, the need to convey that I wouldn't let my mother manipulate my life again was crucial.
"And will you break up with your boyfriend?" I asked, the intensity of the moment lingering in the air as I searched her eyes for a genuine answer.
She, however, remained silent, pulling away from me. A pang hit my chest. What if she genuinely cared about this guy? She had confided during our drinks that she had spent three months with him – the longest with any man. I couldn't help but wonder if he held a significant place in her heart.
"Liar. You're doing it again. Making me feel like I'm special when I'm not. Why do you always do this to me?" she accused, her voice a mix of frustration and tears as she hit my chest. The weight of her words settled heavily on my conscience, and I was left wondering when I ever made her not feel special.
I gently grabbed her hands, preventing her from hitting me, and guided us to sit down. Her teary-eyed gaze met mine, and I couldn't stand seeing her cry. I despised being the cause of her tears. Cupping her jaw lightly, I used my thumb to wipe away the evidence of her sadness.
"And you flirted with me when you were still with her," she pointed out, her voice a mixture of accusation and vulnerability. The weight of her words echoed in the air, and I felt a twinge of guilt for the unintentional pain I had caused her.
Fuck, I couldn't comprehend the turmoil within my chest. The pain was sharp, stabbing right into my heart – a sensation all too familiar from the moment she left me.
It dawned on me, at that very moment, how special she truly was to me. I had always assumed she would stay, patiently waiting for her to end each relationship, hoping she'd come back to me.
Every new boyfriend she introduced stirred anger within me, tempting me to intervene, to buy them off. But I refrained; I didn't want her to be angry with me. Yet, despite my efforts, she ended up furious, leaving me behind for three agonizing years.
Perhaps Jaxson was right – maybe, just maybe, this was what love felt like.
Her eyelids drooped, and she collapsed onto my chest, succumbing to sleep almost instantly. A chuckle escaped me at the futility of reasoning with a drunk Aria. She'd likely forget all about this by tomorrow.
With her nestled on my chest, peacefully snoring, I couldn't help but reminisce about the times when such moments were the norm. When I didn't have to tiptoe around my words or carefully consider every touch. The past when the boundaries were less defined and everything felt more genuine.
- Writer
